John and Mary were old-fashioned to the core. Everyone in their neighborhood knew that. They had strong, traditional beliefs, and one of the biggest was that boys were more valuable than girls.
They had two children: a son named Junior and a daughter named Lydia. Junior was the youngest, but he was the apple of their eye. They showered him with attention, gifts, and praise. Lydia, on the other hand, was treated more like a servant than a daughter. She was mostly ignored—unless there was work to be done. Then, suddenly, she became important.
One day, Lydia approached her mother with a simple request. “Mom, my last pair of pants just got ripped,” she said hesitantly. “Can I have some money to buy another pair?”
Her mother barely looked up from what she was doing. “No, you can’t. Your brother just got a new PlayStation console, and that wasn’t cheap. You’ll have to make do.”
Lydia bit her lip to hold back her frustration. Later that day, her mother handed her a pair of scissors. “Cut them at the knees,” she instructed. “That way, nobody will notice the tear.”
Lydia had no choice but to obey. This was her life. As Junior grew older, her parents spent even more time and money on him, while she was left to cook, clean, and take care of household chores. Her parents never corrected Junior’s bad behavior—in fact, they encouraged it. He ordered Lydia around like a servant, and if she ever stood up for herself, their parents would scold her instead.
One day, they got into an especially heated argument.
“I hate you, Lydia!” Junior shouted. “It would have been better if I were the only child!”
Lydia clenched her fists, her face burning with anger. “I wish that was the case too! Then you’d have to clean up your own mess!”
Her defiance only made Junior angrier. Their parents rushed in and, as always, took Junior’s side. Lydia was punished for “disrespecting” him, while Junior smirked in satisfaction.
The only time Lydia got any peace was when she went to stay with her grandfather during summer. Junior, of course, was sent to an expensive music camp. Their parents never hesitated to spend money on him, but for Lydia? They acted as if she was a burden.
Her grandfather, however, was different. He treated her with love and kindness—something she rarely experienced at home. He, too, had been ignored by her parents. They barely called or visited him, except when they needed a favor.
One summer, when Lydia was supposed to return home, her parents forgot to pick her up. She waited all day, but they never came. Her grandfather, seeing her sadness, took her out shopping. For the first time in a long time, she had new clothes that weren’t patched up hand-me-downs.
That was the moment she made a decision.
“Grandpa,” she said, “I think I want to stay here with you.”
Her grandfather’s eyes softened. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”
She nodded. Later that day, she called her parents.
“Dad, Mom, I just wanted to let you know that I’m staying with Grandpa for a while.”
She expected them to protest, maybe even beg her to come home. Instead, they sounded thrilled.
“That’s great news, Lydia!” her mother said.
“We can have your things sent over tomorrow,” her father added eagerly.
Their response stung. It was as if they had been waiting for her to leave. But deep down, she knew it was for the best.
Over time, her parents barely called. At first, it was twice a month. Then once. Then barely at all. Even after Lydia went to college, they showed little interest in her life.
Years later, after she graduated, she returned to the city. She had no job and nowhere to stay. Swallowing her pride, she called her parents to ask if she could stay in her old room.
Her mother’s response was blunt. “Oh, Lydia, that room is Junior’s music studio now. We can’t just take it away from him.”
“Your brother is going to be a big deal,” her father added. “We all have to make sacrifices for him.”
Lydia hung up the phone, her heart heavy. Her own parents had chosen her brother over her once again.
A few months later, her grandfather passed away. Her parents didn’t even bother to attend the funeral. Lydia was devastated, but as she was sorting through his belongings, there was a knock at the door.
A notary stood outside, holding a briefcase. “Miss Lydia, your grandfather left you something.”
Confused, she invited him inside. As it turned out, her grandfather had been saving money his whole life—and he had left everything to her. She was now a wealthy woman.
Word traveled fast. Not long after, her parents suddenly reached out.
“Lydia, sweetie!” her father greeted her over the phone. “How have you been?”
Her mother, as usual, got straight to the point. “We heard about your inheritance. Your brother is moving to college and needs a new apartment. Be a good sister and send him some money.”
Lydia was stunned. “That’s why you called?”
“Of course! Why else? You’re obviously doing fine,” her mother said, her tone casual.
Lydia felt years of hurt and neglect bubble up inside her. She took a deep breath and made her decision. “No,” she said firmly. “I won’t send you a single cent.”
She hung up and cut all ties with them. For the first time in her life, she put herself first.
Years passed, and one day, her phone rang again. It was her parents.
“Lydia,” her mother sobbed. “We need your help! Junior stole all our savings and disappeared! We have nothing left. Please, we’re desperate.”
Lydia closed her eyes. This was karma in its purest form. For years, they had put Junior on a pedestal, spoiling him while neglecting her. Now, they were paying the price.
She could have left them to suffer. She had every reason to. But instead, she chose the higher road.
“I’ll send you some money,” she said. “But this is the last time. Don’t ever ask me for help again.”
Her parents cried in relief, but Lydia knew the truth—this was a consequence of their own actions. She forgave them, but she would never forget.
What do we learn from this story?
- Never play favorites with your children. John and Mary idolized Junior while neglecting Lydia. In the end, their favoritism created a selfish, entitled son who abandoned them.
- Forgiveness is a powerful thing. Lydia could have turned her back on her parents, but she chose to help them one last time. Forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting—it means moving on without bitterness.
- Karma always comes around. John and Mary treated Lydia unfairly, and in the end, the son they adored was the one who betrayed them. Life has a way of balancing things out.
